


Reflection

by StarryNighty



Category: Creed II
Genre: Black Reader, Black female reader - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty
Summary: You and Viktor have history to work through.





	Reflection

Viktor loved you.

He thought he had proved it. Time and time again. But you were stubborn, so was he.

With the flick of his wide tongue, it glided across your skin. Lapping up salty droplets of your sweat mixed with the sweet smell of your skin.

He reveled in your delicious moans. He loved that he can do this to you. Bending you to his will. A simple motion of his slick tongue moving up your neck was enough to spurn you on. Your eyes fluttered, your head forgetfully rolled to the side, suddenly losing the memory of the heartbreak he invoked.

You bared your neck to him anyway. His cock grows harder because of it.

You forgave him.

When he draws away, he knows what that cost him. The absence of touching you hurts in his chest. But it was a familiar feeling, he had left you before. For more than a year, actually. Even now, gazing down at your wanton coos tremble from your lips, he knows he wants nothing more than to apologize for what he has done.

_If_ he had that in him.

Instead, you stared at him lost in thoughts, feelings, and sensations. Shades of a color he hadn’t noticed before become more vibrant in your eyes. Those lovely windows to your sore soul. He returned his lips to your neck, devours your skin under his mouth and sucks it in between his teeth leaving markings of ownership. And when your hands wrapped around his neck drawing him closer he knows that you belong to him again.

His fingers finally tore through your panties. He draws circles at your entrance. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders. The cool air around your bodies grows humid with sweat and breath and hot from bodies rubbing together.

“Viktor…please.” You begged you wanted to say more. Anything that would make this semi-happy reunion better, but you don’t. You shut it down. Concentrated on the hum of his breaths. The brush of his beard on your temple and you know he couldn’t have wanted a person more than you.

He belonged to you too.

Your hips swiveled on your tailbone with his rhythm. You are warm there. But you are even hotter inside, all slippery heat and tightness when his two fingers pushed inside.

“Tell me,” he snarled. The weight of his cock rests on your belly. His ash-brown colored eyes bore into you. They demanded of you. He needed to hear your answer.

You shook your head. He has to pay in other ways. He understood that now. And so you refused to speak the words he longed to hear.

Viktor pulled his fingers from within you. In a flash, he wrapped those large mitts around your neck. They’re hot and wet too, adding to the moment of your surrender. An indignant mewl brushed past your lips with the closing of your throat. Viktor pinned you to the bed with his hips settling between your legs.

“Don’t.” You whispered.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Viktor answered your command by squeezing harder. Your hands flew to his wrists. A burst of color behind your eyes joined the growing need in your cunt. Viktor entered you at the same time the bright ripples of silvery stars flood your vision.

You cried out through a struggled breath, jerked your hips as far into the bed as you could to getaway. But Viktor only chuckled. A deep, soft maniacal scrape in the back of his throat. He knows this was your favorite. The beginning, the stretching of your walls—the taking. Besides, there was little room in his heart for mercy at this moment. He loves it too.

Viktor fucked you slowly, dragging the weight of his cock out, and then slammed back in passed your folds. Through his beard, that full bottom lip of his trembled slightly before he sucked it in as he drew out of you again. Your heat enveloped around him, clenched tight, almost too tight. The head of his cock throbbed with slick.

“Shit.” He murmured.

He lets you breathe and your eyes rolled back savoring the immediate feeling of fullness. The intimacy of his strength pours over you. And all at once you are his again. Memories of the not so distant past rushed through you. A time when you crumbled under his touch, of the rough heat of his hands gripping your hair and the other leaving bruises on your body. You had needed it back then. It had made sense. You were hurt, deeply, maybe even broken, and he only made it better. He helped you piece yourself back together.

And you had made him _feel _special too.

He fucked you faster now. His speed only matched by his breaths fanning down over your lips. Your hips rocked with his agonizing pace. He groaned with every wave of your cunt. And he remembered the tears, the late nights with you in his arms, the love. So much love, with you on his arm walking into a room became so much easier. A hard-hitting woman with Hell in her eyes for the world, but in private, you let him see your vulnerable softness reserved only for him.

But he had fucked up.

The joining of your hips to his left him craving more. Much more. It was never enough. Little trysts, locker room blow jobs, and then to eventually dating. Viktor had found more than a quick fuck. Though back-breaking, toe-curling moments as they were. You were a beautiful woman, but not without your faults, your jagged edges seemed to fit perfectly into his voids. That had been the problem.

Viktor’s hands roughly left your neck, his length pulsating from the ache for you, he groped your breasts on the way down to the backs of your thighs. He can’t help it when he moans a little. He can’t hide the want in his voice when his lips touched yours. Viktor tilts your legs back, burying himself deeper within you. 

He loves you. The short pained shivery calls of his name from your lips sends a shudder down his spine.

It was hard to admit. To you and himself. And in the night, he left without so much as a good-bye.

“You hurt me…” you say between moans, tears traced from the corners of your eyes.

And you were right. Your voice bites at the center of his burning desire. He trusts harder, each pump an aroused promise that he only wants to make you feel adored. Again your hands desperately glide up the damp skin of his chest and wrapped around his shoulders ensuring his deep strokes. He hates that he left, even more, that it might have set you back. 

Viktor’s lips licked and sucked at your neck. His heady warm breaths panted into your ear as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Your chest rattled with a repressed sob joining the frantic slapping of his hips.

He had been afraid. Too fearful of the woman you were becoming. A woman capable of loving him and yourself made for an unnerving match. He had never been settled. But without you?

Viktor’s thrusts became heavier, erratic with the constant flutter of your orgasm.

He was a man unmade without you. The cold sick in his stomach returned like when he was a kid. He came crawling back with a promise. And with hope in his heart, you crushed him as he had done you. Only this time, like you knew he would, didn’t waste a second in reminding you of what was lost.

Wide-mouthed and shaking, you took him in. He splashed inside, the heat of him pooling and then slipped out around your cunt until he collapsed on top of you. His thick heavy frame pushed you further into the mattress, the warmth of his skin the sweat mixed with yours. Both bodies, satisfied and spent. 

And you remembered what it meant to be loved by Viktor Drago. To be completely taken into his heart and his life. When he wants you—he needs you. And to be honest, you needed him back.

His hands dropped from your thighs, carefully letting them fall to the bed as he leaned up. Over you, his large hand cupped your face. 

Viktor’s eyes roamed lovingly over your face as if memorizing every detail. His voice was enticingly deeper and slipped in and out of his accent as he spoke. “I love you.”

Viktor sat up, his eyes glassy in the lamplight, he slid to the edge of the bed grabbed your hand along the way to bring you with him. But you don’t look at him at first. You were still trapped in the onslaught of him, and caught in the undertow of your emotions. Instead of looking at Viktor, you concentrated on the patterns of your rug.

He saw it. The collapse within, your eyes stared fixed at the floor, the settling of a vacant sigh from your lips. And he knew it was because of him, his actions. And he _needed_ to make it right. You were his, and Viktor was yours.  
  
”I’ll ask you again. Will you tell me?” he said.  
  
His large arm draped over your shoulders, pulled you into his chest as his other hand tilted your chin up to his accepting gaze. His long fingers rubbed over your lips, down your chin, to the sticky skin of your shoulder.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice shook with the familiar tremor he sometimes had before a match. A small smile creased the edges of his eyes mirrored the growing burst of joy in your chest.

Your hand on his naked thigh raised and delicately brushed over his soft beard and then to the back of his shorn hair. You pulled him to your kiss but it didn’t last long as a smile of your own broke across your lips.

“I will.” You declared softly.


End file.
